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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599552">Your heart hurts, mine does too</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_p_in_raspberry/pseuds/the_p_in_raspberry'>the_p_in_raspberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Check Please! (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Jack Zimmermann, Bitty needs a hug, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Getting Together, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda?, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, getting disowned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:35:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_p_in_raspberry/pseuds/the_p_in_raspberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shitty had always thought that because of Samwell’s LGBTQ+ friendly rumor, if one of his teammates weren’t straight they would come out eventually, only waiting because they weren’t ready yet, but never waiting because they were scared. </p><p>He could see now how his logic was flawed.</p><p> </p><p>(Prompt: What if Bitty hadn't come out to Shitty?)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>478</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These characters are not mine and belong to Ngozi, the author and creator of Check, Please!</p><p>!!!Trigger warnings!!!: homophobia, alcohol (chapter one only), homophobic language<br/>Please think of your mental health!!! If the tags and trigger warnings is a sensitive subject or a potential trigger for you then it's okay to click out of this&lt;3&lt;3<br/>It's okay to not read something and you shouldn't read this if you think it could be damaging for you and your mental health&lt;3&lt;3</p><p>Also, if I have missed any trigger warnings or tags, please tell me!!! I might have missed something that I didn't know could be triggering and that's my mistake!!! Please correct me and tell me so I can do better in the future!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Samwell was a good college. Good reputation, nice teachers, great sports facilities. Part of the reason why Shitty chose it, really.</p><p> </p><p>What convinced him though was what kept his other old classmates away. The rumor of 1 in 4.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty had longed his whole preppy shit life to be in a place where nobody gave a shit about what you did, where you came from, who you loved. It was perfect. He was going to get so many friends he could <em>support the shit out of.</em></p><p> </p><p>But what people didn’t know about Samwell’s rumor of 1 in 4 was that it didn’t really count the sports teams. Sure, about half the women’s volley team weren’t straight but it was different for them because heteronormative society standards made it perfectly okay for <em>women</em> to be gay because it looked like they were just great <em>gal pals</em>, or it was considered <em>hot</em>. (Shitty was not going to get into the whole fetishizing of LGBTQ+ women because that would take <em>weeks</em>-).</p><p> </p><p>But for the men’s sports teams at Samwell, it was a different story. So far, to his knowledge, if he thought about it for a second, only one of the guys from the basketball team was bisexual but other than that everyone was straight. Or at least not <em>out</em> (Jack was a special case).</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that the sports teams were homophobic. Not exactly. It was just a different crowd. It was like the toxic masculinity and fear of not being taken seriously hadn’t left the locker rooms or sports fields no matter how accepting the school culture was. All the out guys and girls were just <em>regular</em> people you saw in classes, passing by in the library. Not your teammates.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty did not realize that until twenty minutes ago. Which made him want to turn his fucking brain inside out.</p><p> </p><p>He always thought that because of Samwell’s LGBTQ+ friendly rumor, if one of his teammates weren’t straight, they would have come out eventually, only waiting because they weren’t ready, but never waiting because they were scared.</p><p> </p><p>He could see now how his logic was flawed.</p><p> </p><p>As if on cue, Shitty was shaken out of his thought when Bitty threw up again.</p><p> </p><p>He clutched his teammate's shoulders and whispered: “It’s okay, Bitty, you’re okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Because it was all he could do.</p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>8 days ago</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Christmas break was a <em>turd</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty swore that if he had to live through one more goddamn family dinner, he would <em>walk</em> back to Samwell.</p><p> </p><p>Right now, he was out on the balcony of his parents’ home, smoking a not so secret blunt his mom found in his suitcase and confiscated. Good thing he knew she hid them in her medicine cabinet.</p><p> </p><p>New years was two days ago so everything he had been home for was over and he was ready to get the fuck out of here and back to the Haus.</p><p> </p><p>He was scrolling through Instagram when his phone rang. He smiled as he blew smoke through his nose, pressing ‘accept call’.</p><p> </p><p>“C! What’s up, my dude, happy New Years. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said, happy to mentally leave his parents' house for a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder spoke almost immediately. “<em>Hi, Shitty! Happy New Years! Uhm well, I kinda need your help? Maybe? I don’t know, I’m confused.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Shitty chuckled because his goalie was adorable. “Anything, brah, just tell me.” He said, taking another drag.</p><p> </p><p>A happy sigh came from the other end.<em> “Okay, so you know how I told you I was gonna go back to Samwell a couple of days early because my parents were going on that trip?”</em> Chowder said. Even after he had been on the team for half a year already, he was still nervous about calling Shitty. It was so cute Shitty just wanted to crush the goalie with love and support for days.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you in your dorm now?” Shitty threw the bud of the finished blunt in the nearest trashcan and leaned back on the railing.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Yeah, I am. But uhm. Shitty, do you know when Bitty was supposed to come back?”</em> Chowder said, voice still nervous.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty frowned. Something was off, he could feel it in his left toe. That fucker always called it. “On Sunday. He said he would catch a plane Saturday night because it was cheaper. Why? Do you need him? You have his number, don’t ya?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Well uhm yeah I do, but he’s already here.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>What? “What?”</p><p> </p><p>It was Thursday today.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not in Georgia?” Shitty said when Chowder was silent.</p><p> </p><p><em>“No, he’s at the Haus.” </em>Chowder said as he set off in a rant, barely breathing in between sentences. <em>“I was gonna use the key you guys gave me because I concentrate better on homework at the Haus, so I thought you guys wouldn’t mind me being there while I waited for you to come back, you know?</em>” The kid had been so awkwardly happy when Jack and he had given that key. He mostly used it when he needed a place to crash between classes, still utterly grateful.<em> “But when I got there the door was unlocked and I thought Oh no someone broke in! Right? So I walked in and I couldn’t see anything missing or broken, so I decided to investigate and walk upstairs. And then Bitty was there, in his room, napping! And I was so excited that I sort of screamed on accident and woke him up, but he didn’t look very happy and he said he got in last night and then he told me he was really tired from the flight, so I went back to my dorm and called you!”</em></p><p> </p><p>Shitty blinked, taking in the waterfall of information. “Huh.” He walked over and pushed the balcony door all the way shut, before sliding down the wall beside it. His mom liked to eavesdrop. “Did he say why he was home so early?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty would have called him. Or texted him at least. Or texted Holster and Ransom. Even Jack maybe.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder was quiet for a while and Shitty could see him in his head thinking his question over with a pout. <em>“No? Not really.</em>” He said slowly.<em> “He just said he caught an early flight. But this is really early, right? He was being weird, he didn’t even get out of bed when I came!”</em></p><p> </p><p>That <em>was</em> weird. Bitty usually crushed all of them, especially Chowder, in chokingly tight hugs.</p><p> </p><p>Putting his phone on speaker Shitty searched up flight hours. He had been waiting for an excuse to come home early and this <em>did</em> sound weird, so damn right he was going to take this chance of escaping. “Weird how? Like, I haven’t slept in eighty fucking hours and if I don’t sleep, I’ll kill the whole neighborhood kinda weird, or I’m hiding things because I think I can deal with shit on my own but I clearly can’t kinda weird?”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Uhm.”</em> There was a pause. <em>“Both? Maybe?”</em></p><p> </p><p>Shitty brushed two fingers over his mustache as he bought his ticket. “Alright Chow, we have a Code Red, I’ll be there tomorrow at three-ish. Make sure he stays <em>hydrated as fuck</em>, but don’t coddle him! He’ll turn into a turtle, I tell ya.”</p><p> </p><p>Chowder let out a relieved sigh but then paused. <em>“… A turtle?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Gonna retract that southern beauty of a neck into his hard manly shell until he dies.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Oh. Okay, call me when you get here!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Will do, Chowdy. You did good, thanks for calling me, man.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty could practically hear the boy blush<em>. “Oh, thank you Shitty, it was nothing, really.”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Nah brah, it was class A teammate behavior, nice job kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p>Chowder was taking math notes and finishing his fourth glass of apple juice when he heard the front door bust open.</p><p> </p><p>"Hellooooo beautiful people! Guess who escaped hell early?"</p><p> </p><p>Chowder stood up from his chair and ran out of the kitchen. "Shitty!" He blurted, a little too loud perhaps but it didn't matter because Shitty grabbed him nonetheless and pulled him into a crushing hug that quickly turned into a headlock and a noogie.</p><p> </p><p>"How you doing, C? Been good?" Shitty said, smothering his hair one last time before letting him go from his grip.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder nodded enthusiastically, taking a step back when his head turned towards the stairs.</p><p>Bitty was standing on the last step, bed hair and a bright, soft smile.</p><p> </p><p>For a single second Shitty shot Chowder an unreadable look before he gave him a gentle push to the side to make his way over to the southern boy.</p><p> </p><p>"Bitty, you absolute cutie, what do you have to look so soft and comfortable for?" He grinned, seamlessly pulling off his unfazed and unworried facade as he picked Bitty up by the waist.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty squeaked. "Shitty Knight! Put me down if you know what's good for you, young man." There was a playful bite in his tone and Shitty chuckled before putting him down.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder watched from the couch. He felt the knot in his stomach unfold steadily. He had been uncertain whether or not to call Shitty but now that he was here, he knew he made the right choice.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder had always been calmer with Shitty nearby because the senior just always seemed to have everything under control. Shitty would know what to do with Bitty.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty gave Bitty the same ruffle of his hair he had given Chowder. "What's got you back so early, brah? It's good to see you, don't get me wrong-"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh you know, cheap flights and stuff.” Bitty shied away under his gaze but still managed to plaster a nervous but believable smile on his face. “My parents had some plans and I was missing the Haus anyway."</p><p> </p><p>He had been doing that move the whole time Chowder had been at the Haus and it hadn't yet stopped his stomach from turning. But he had to give it to Bitty, he was good at being okay. After yesterday when Chowder had burst in on Bitty napping, it had been clear that he 1) hadn't expected anyone to come home anytime soon, and 2) looked like he was on the brink of passing out (and not only from lack of sleep). It hadn't taken long for him to shoo Chowder out of the room with a weak excuse of a long flight and lack of sleep that didn't really explain his red eyes, but Chowder left anyway.</p><p> </p><p>But when he returned the next day, relaxed with the reassuring fact that Shitty would arrive in a couple of hours, he didn't exactly expect freshly baked pie.</p><p> </p><p><em>"Hi, there honey! Sorry I was such a zombie yesterday, flying really puts me to sleep." </em>Bitty had said when he greeted him in the door, bright smile, an apron around his waist and flour on his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>It calmed Chowder for a while, seeing Bitty bake. When he baked, he was fine.</p><p> </p><p>But then he noticed how Bitty was moving just a tad slower, more careful. And how he wasn’t wiggling his hips like he usually would to the (too low) music playing from his speaker. But mostly how he was just so quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, Bitty was never <em>quiet</em> quiet but this was <em>weird</em>. He didn’t talk about his crust or his filling or Beyoncé. He only asked how Chowder was doing, how his vacation had been, how his parents were.</p><p> </p><p>So when Bitty had baked a pie and announced he would return to his room to take a nap, Chowder was torn. Should he just let him go to his room? Was he supposed to keep an eye on him?</p><p> </p><p>He was grateful when Shitty showed up. By then, Bitty had been sleeping for two and a half hours. Far longer than Jack usually recommended for a nap.</p><p> </p><p>It was clear for Chowder that Bitty was happy to see Shitty, but the tension on his face also showed that he most likely would have liked to be by himself for a few more days.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty pulled Bitty in and kissed him on the cheek. “Well, it’s good to see you, Bits.”</p><p> </p><p>And that was that.</p><p> </p><p>The next few days Shitty texted Chowder updates about Bitty, while he stayed at his dorm. The rest of the team would arrive Sunday and Shitty still didn’t have a clue about what was wrong with their tiny teammate yet.</p><p> </p><p>The updates didn’t do much to calm Chowder down either.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty was still sleeping a lot. And when he wasn’t sleeping, he was baking or locking himself in his room.</p><p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Shitty</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>He burned cookies tday, brah. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He went to bed at 9 w/o playin his Beyoncé night ritual. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And he srsly displays major cuddle vibes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So I gave him my fav blanket.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But our boi still sad boi.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Sent 23.21</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Chowder stared at the message and silently looked forward to the rest of the teams' arrival back home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first ones to arrive were Ransom and Holster.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty greeted them at the door with chest bumps and chin tickles, both of which were gestures only accepted by the D-men (Bitty would be sent flying backward with a chest bump and Jack would only allow it after winning a game).</p><p> </p><p>“Shitty, where’s Bits?” Holster said after they had done their catching up on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty sighed. Bitty had been in his room all day. “In his room, probably sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>Ransom frowned. “You still don’t know what’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty had texted everyone in the Haus separately, saying Bitty wasn’t feeling well and that they shouldn’t ask about it if they noticed him acting weird when they got home.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, brah. It’s like he lost 40 games or something. He’s totally off.” He said, sipping his beer.</p><p> </p><p>Holster leaned back, arm around the back of the couch behind Ransom. “Maybe he’s just homesick? He missed his mom a lot before Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe he got a really shitty Christmas gift,” Ransom added, and Holster nodded and snapped an approving finger in his direction.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Shitty said. “We just need to cheer him up and shit. Throw a Kegster or something.” He glanced at the clock. Jack should arrive at any moment now.</p><p> </p><p>When he looked back Ransom and Holster were looking at each other like they always were when they were having a silent conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Then finally Holster turned to Shitty. “He needs to get laid, dude.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know at least 3 girls who would happily spin on his dick like a Beyblade,” Ransom added.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty just chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll pie-ban you for weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>They were interrupted when a door closed upstairs. A short while after, a very tired looking Bitty stood in the living room.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty!” The D-men said at the same time, jumping up to greet him.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty grinned, more genuine than Shitty had seen the last few days. “Boys, I have a headache, y’all better calm down.” He sounded tired, but more like Bitty.</p><p> </p><p>Ransom and Holster both paused abruptly in front of Bitty. “Can’t we hug you?” Ransom said, puppy eyes on full display.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty sighed like he was actually thinking about it. “Don’t crush me though.”</p><p> </p><p>And then he was gathered up in strong arms.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty could see the blissful expression on Bitty’s face as the boys hugged him carefully. He knew he had missed them.</p><p> </p><p>However when Holster decided to lift Bitty gently a few inches off the ground his face turned into a flinch. He didn’t make a sound, only smiling silently when he was finally placed back on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>It made Shitty scratch his stache. Something was definitely off.</p><p> </p><p>Later, when Jack arrived he pulled Shitty aside into his room.</p><p> </p><p>Jack had given everyone a brief hug and had moved up the stairs to his room, only to throw his head at Shitty for him to follow discreetly.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty jumped on his bed immediately as Jack began to unpack. He knew how much the captain hated a messy room, even more so one filled with unpacked bags.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up, brah.” He said, noticing the tension in Jack’s shoulders as he tucked away his laundry from his bag.</p><p> </p><p>Jack paused as he stood up straight. Then turned towards Shitty with a frown. “He only hugged me with one arm.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty placed a pillow behind his head as he frowned as well. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack still looked lost in thought continued. “Bittle. He only half hugged me. With one arm.” He dropped the clothes he had in his hand and made his way across the room only to plumb down beside his best friend on his bed. “It was weird.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty nodded, understanding now what he was referring to. “I saw him flinching when Holster hugged slash lifted him.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack frowned deepened as he looked down at his hands. “You think he’s mad at me?”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it. I’ve thought about it for a while now. My guess is that he got an injury over break and doesn’t want to tell us about it because it might put him out of play. And he knows this is your last year so it’s important.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack turned towards him abruptly. “But that’s stupid. I’m not gonna make him play if he’s injured just because I want to win.” Shitty smiled fondly at him as Jack continued with something that looked close to a pout. “You really think that’s it?”</p><p> </p><p>“It could be anything, but maybe? I guess it’s a long shot. Who knows what’s going on under that blond helmet.” He made a thoughtful noise. “I’m gonna try and talk to him. Or get Lardo to do it maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack hummed in agreement, crossing his arms. Shitty thought that somehow Jack’s arms looked more toned than when he left for Christmas but didn’t comment on his best friend’s coping mechanism when being around his dad. He shook his head. Wrong teammate to worry about right now.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you should try first. Then bring in Lardo. And if that doesn’t work we’ll try Chowder.” Jack said, looking at Shitty for his opinion.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty snapped his finger. “Yes, let’s bring out the big guns for last, <em>genius</em>.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t genius because <em>nothing</em> worked. By Wednesday everything had failed.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty tried Monday when both he and Bitty had a free period, but Bitty shook his questions off.</p><p> </p><p>“Shitty I’m perfectly fine, I’m just worried about Betsy, she’s really been acting up.” He said, genuinely looking worried.</p><p> </p><p>“So nothing happened over break?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty rolled his eyes. “No! It was the same as ever.” Then he sprung up the chair and into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty watched him walk away. He didn’t believe his bullshit for one second.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo’s try was even worse.</p><p> </p><p>She had pulled him aside that same night, asking very discreetly about his Christmas break and his family which led to Bitty ranting for 45 minutes about a new recipe he found in one of his old paper folders in his room.</p><p> </p><p>When Chowder had been called in on Thuesday the goalie straight up asked him if he was sad and Bitty answered with “You know, I was hoping for a Christmas release from Bey, but I also want her to enjoy her holidays. Do you think I’m a bad person for wanting more music?”.</p><p> </p><p>Chowder and Bitty had then spent the remaining day reassuring each other that they were good people, even though Bitty wanted more music from Beyoncé and Chowder wanted Sharks to work a bit harder.</p><p> </p><p>But Bitty’s ‘<em>I’m okay façade’</em> didn’t add up to reality even the slightest. Nobody had heard even a tone of pop music when Bitty took a shower or went to his room. Nobody had walked through the front door and smelled pie. At first, Holster blamed Betsy but Dex swore it worked fine after looking at it twice.</p><p> </p><p>It all really went to hell after Jack had walked in on Bitty bending over the kitchen table, holding himself up by his hands, his head hanging between his shoulder and breathing loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“Bittle, are you okay?” Jack had said, eyeing him cautiously from the doorway to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s head had shot up, clearly shocked by the sudden presence of the captain. A smile was plastered on his face, so clearly fake it made Jack openly frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I’m just peachy, uhm,” Bitty said, still breathing a little weird. His eyes wandered to the floor. “Jack, could you pick up my book? I had a headrush, you know, standing up too quickly and all,” His smile widened, and Jack frowned further.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” He said and walked over to pick up the book from the floor. He eyed Bitty again. “Are you sure you’re okay, Bittle?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty, still bending over the table, didn’t even look at him when he waved him away. “Yes, I’m fine, just had a little headrush, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack had left it at that.</p><p> </p><p>But there was also the fact that Bitty seemed tired all the time. Completely exhausted, red and dark circles under his eyes, cheeks slightly hollow. It was a good thing practice first started next week because the way Bitty was looking, he would likely drop face-first as soon as he stepped on the ice.</p><p> </p><p>Dex had walked in on him sleeping on his textbook one day when he came by for food at the Haus. Bitty had dismissed it with staying up watching Netflix the night before.</p><p> </p><p>The Haus was starting to get weird. Ransom and Holster had taken the task of never leaving Bitty alone to distract him very seriously, but it was hard when he started escaping to his room both more often and earlier in the day.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty had even started to subtly hint when butter was on sale at murder Stop ‘n Shop.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing worked.</p><p> </p><p>And then it was Thursday morning and Shitty woke up to Jack sitting at his desk with folded hands under his chin, still in his running clothes, yellow shoes blinding him as he turned on his lights.</p><p> </p><p>“Brah, what?” Shitty slurred. “Wha’ time issit?” Looking at his alarm clock it was 8 in the morning. Not that early then. He had class in an hour.</p><p> </p><p>Jack simply sighed and looked at him. “Bitty left somewhere last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty sat up, cracking his back in the process. “What? Where?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack stood up but didn’t move to join Shitty in his bed. “I don’t know. I woke up at one last night to get some water because Lardo borrowed my water bottle. I saw Bitty’s door was slightly open and he usually closes it, right?” Shitty nodded and Jack frowned. “Right, so I look inside, you know to see if he was awake, but his bed was empty.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. “He wasn’t there? Was he in the bathroom or something?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack shook his head. “No. I checked the front door, too. It was unlocked.”</p><p> </p><p>Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Shitty ran a hand through his hair. “Shit is getting weird, man. Do you have any idea when he came back? Is he even back yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s eyes paused for a moment. “I don’t know. He was there when I went for my run this morning, but he looked fine. Well, not <em>fine</em> but not less fine than any other day since we got back from break.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t ask where he was?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think he would’ve answered me truthfully?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack had a point.</p><p> </p><p>“That would explain why he looks so trashed all the time.” Shitty thought out loud and Jack hummed.</p><p> </p><p>“Should I ask him?” The captain said as he sat on Shitty’s bedside.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty stroked a hand on Jack’s back. He knew Jack hated it when the team was unbalanced. Not just because it would likely affect their play, but also because he wanted everyone to be happy and well. And Bitty clearly wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I don’t think he’ll tell you anything,” Shitty said and Jack leaned against him.</p><p> </p><p>Just then Lardo knocked on the door, also wearing running clothes.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, dorks.” She said, dropping down in Shitty’s chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Lardo what the fuck, it’s 8 in the morning.” Shitty deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>“She went running with me,” Jack said calmly. Which made sense. Lardo was Jack’s stress relief at times when Shitty wasn’t. It was a good balance. “Lardo what do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Lardo bit her lip. “I think Shitty’s right. He’s not gonna tell us shit.” She paused. “Well, the obvious answer is to follow him.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack and Shitty looked at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Not tonight though,” She continued. “We don’t know if this was a one-time thing. I really hope it is but at the same time I’ll bet Holster’s tall white ass that it wasn’t. Either way, we’ll see if he leaves again Friday and then we’ll follow him.” She sighed like she was satisfied with her explanation and leaned back in the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“But why not just follow him tonight then?” Jack asked and Lardo rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Because Jay-Z, Bitty’s looking like a fucking corpse and if you were keeping up, you’ll know that he has an assignment due Friday. So tonight I’m gonna make sure he fucking <em>sleeps</em> so he can finish it tomorrow.” She removed the hair tie from her hair and glided a hand through it. Jack turned to Shitty who looked at her with heart eyes. “I’m gonna make an excuse so I don’t make him suspicious, but one thing is sure, he ain’t leaving that room tonight. I’ll knock his cute ass out if I have to.”</p><p> </p><p>So they left it at that. Shitty filled Ransom and Holster in on the plan, and they decided to let Lardo take care of Bitty and see what would happen Friday.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Lardo pulled Bitty from the couch about 8 pm and disappeared into his room.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty only protested slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Lardo, this is ridiculous.” He mumbled but everyone could see he was exhausted. Nobody had the heart to say it though.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you Bitty, my dorm has a rat lose. I can’t go back there until tomorrow and I’m really tired. And how can I fall asleep without the good ol’ Bittle cuddles.” She said with a sly smile.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty sighed, clearly seeing through her very cheap lie. “Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>And then the rest of the boys were left in the living room. The room felt quiet even though the TV was on. It was thick and weird.</p><p> </p><p>It was Holster who broke the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“So what’s the plan for Friday?” He asked, looking at Shitty.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty pondered for a moment. “Go to bed early, come up with our excuses, and wait and see if he goes out.”</p><p> </p><p>“And wait a minute or two to follow if he actually leaves.” Added Jack, feeling his wrists tingle as if they needed a stick to handle. He was anxious.</p><p> </p><p>It was starting to affect his play. Practice might only start next week, but Jack had already been at the rink twice. The second time was this morning and he hadn’t broken any of his personal records. Not even slapshots.</p><p> </p><p>The D-men nodded approvingly,</p><p> </p><p>“Lardo will crash with me tomorrow,” Shitty added, running a hand through his hair. Shitty had been a lot less goofy and chill when not around Bitty. Jack could see he was worried but wouldn’t let Bitty see it, so he saved it for when he wasn’t around. It was weird to see his best friend so serious but also reassuring because then Jack felt calmer. Shitty had the situation under control.</p><p> </p><p>When everyone agreed to the plan they went to bed silently.</p><p> </p><p>Jack, however, woke up again around one to get water. The Haus was quiet, which made sense because it was one in the morning, but like every cliché horror movie Shitty had forced Jack to watch something didn’t feel quite right. His first instinct was to check if Bitty was still in his room. He knew that logically Bitty probably was because nothing got passed Lardo, but when had Jack’s fears ever made much sense?</p><p> </p><p>His feet met the cold carpet. Always sleeping with his room temperature slightly too cold might be nice when he was under the covers, but it didn’t do much when he was supposed to leave his bed. Jack pulled himself together, not bothering putting a shirt on and went out into the hall. He could see the door to Bitty’s room was closed, but as he made his way to the stairs he noticed the lights were on in Bitty, Holster and Ransom’s shared bathroom. He walked over but paused halfway to the door when he heard a sound.</p><p> </p><p>Someone was crying. <em>Bitty</em> was crying, his voice easy to recognize even through a door.</p><p> </p><p>Jack stood there, frozen to the floor as the subtle sound of sniffling reached through the door.</p><p> </p><p>His heart sank. Was his teammate really that unhappy? And he hadn’t even been able to figure out why? He was captain for god's sake, that was his job.</p><p> </p><p>Jack felt nailed to the floor. He couldn’t just leave but he was so bad when people cried. Tears made him stiff and uncomfortable. But he couldn’t <em>leave</em>. It was Bitty and he was alone. He wanted to help, knock down the door and demand what he could do to make it better.</p><p> </p><p>He quietly walked over to the door, took a deep breath and knocked.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of crying stopped immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“Bittle?” He said quietly, as if afraid to scare him.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing was said from the other side for a long while and Jack considered knocking again when a voice spoke. A weak and quiet one</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack swallowed. He wasn’t the person for this. He should’ve gone and gotten Shitty. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty sniffled slightly, then hurriedly answered. “Yeah, yes, of course, I’m fine.” Then a pause. “I’m fine, Jack, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack almost lifted his hand to the doorknob but let it fall to his side again instead. “Bittle, you’re crying.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em>fine</em>, Jack. Please leave me alone, okay? I’m fine.” He continued, still sniffling.</p><p> </p><p>“But-“ His hand reached forward. <em>Please don’t push me away.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Jack, please just go. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack sighed, his slightly shaking hand removing itself from where it had found the doorknob. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>He silently walked backward from the door, pausing multiple times and considering walking back to his teammate. But in the end, he sighed and went back to his room, water long forgotten.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next morning Bitty was quiet. Not in the way Lardo was when she was behind on a project, or when Ransom was studying for a test without sleeping. Not in the way Jack was when they lost a game. Bitty was just plain quiet.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, Bitty,” Chimed Shitty, sipping his morning coffee happily by the sink.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty smiled at him for a moment. “Morning, Shitty.” Then he turned around and saw Jack sipping water, freshly back from a morning run, sitting by the kitchen table. His eyes reached the floor and his smile disappeared. He turned towards the countertop and grabbed an apple.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty sent him a look over Bitty’s shoulder and Jack shook his head silently.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty turned back to them, smile plastered on his face again, but it looked like a grimace more than anything. “Well, I’m gonna get going. Bye, Y’all!”</p><p> </p><p>Jack felt is if a fog had taken over his mind as he watched his teammate basically sprint out of the Kitchen. Two seconds later he was out the door.</p><p> </p><p>Last night after Jack had gotten back to his room he lied awake, staring numbingly at the ceiling. For the past few days, Jack hadn’t been able to put a finger on why Bitty being so off had affected him so much. All he could figure out was that it made his stomach twist and his hands stim.</p><p> </p><p>But as he had locked eyes on the ceiling crack just inches from the wall he felt something click. Bitty’s behavior was reminding him of himself, only he hadn’t noticed because his smaller teammate was significantly better at hiding his feelings than Jack had been when he had been at his lowest. But it made sense and Jack didn’t fall asleep for the longest time.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck was that?” Shitty blurted out, gesturing at the closed front door.</p><p> </p><p>Jack shook himself out of his train of thoughts and downed the last of his water. “I’ll tell you later. You’ll be late for class.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty frowned but agreed. “I’ll text you when I’m out of class and you’ll bring the spicy, hot <em>deets</em>, alright brah?”</p><p> </p><p>A little while later, Lardo came down the stairs when both Holster and Shitty had left for classes.</p><p> </p><p>“He doesn’t fucking sleep.” She cursed, seating herself at the kitchen table beside Ransom as Jack ate a protein bar by the sink. “I woke up three times where he was just sitting there, in bed, wide awake.” She pouted angrily and crossed her arms. “I was <em>this</em> close to just banging his head against the wall just to knock him out.” She held up her thumb and index finger to visualize.</p><p> </p><p>Jack paused and debated with himself if he should say something. It was a pretty private matter he walked in on last night and he wasn’t sure if it was his secret to tell.</p><p> </p><p>He silently shook his head. This was about Bitty’s well being.</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed his bite. “I heard him crying in the bathroom when I went to get water.”</p><p> </p><p>Lardo’s head shot up as well as Ransom’s.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Lardo said, clearly surprised. “When?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack sighed. “Around one?”</p><p> </p><p>Lardo silently closed her eyes and dropped her head slowly in her hands. She sighed, sounding as tired as she looked.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit.” Ransom had stopped typing on his computer. “Did you talk to him?” He hit enter a couple of times on his keyboard, eyes not leaving Jack’s.</p><p> </p><p>“I asked him if he was okay, but he dismissed me pretty hard. He told me to leave so I did.” Jack threw his protein bar wrapper in the trash and walked over to sit down beside his teammate. He felt too jitty to sit down but his legs were tired.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo leaned back in her chair, exhaling loudly. “That southern peach is a fucking fortress.”</p><p> </p><p>The others silently agreed</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly enough, Shitty was the one who appeared the most nervous about the plan. It was Friday and Bitty had arrived home from classes at around two and basically locked himself in his room as soon as he entered the Haus, leaving Holster and Ransom sharing glances from the kitchen as he stormed passed them.</p><p> </p><p>It was currently ten o’clock in the evening and Shitty was pacing the living room. Jack was on the floor, Lardo in the armchair and the D-men on the couch. Holster had texted the frogs that they should stay away from the Haus tonight and that they would explain later if necessary.</p><p> </p><p>“That little fucker is hiding something-“</p><p> </p><p>“We know, Shitty.”</p><p> </p><p>“-and I just fucking know it’s something we could’ve helped him with if he just trusted us-“</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, we talked about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“-but it’s our fault if he doesn’t trust us right? This should be his fucking safe space, brah-“</p><p> </p><p>“Shitty-“</p><p> </p><p>“-and that means I failed him, I should’ve-“</p><p> </p><p>Ransom stood up and grabbed Shitty by the neck, ignoring his squeak and forced him down on the couch, headfirst, as Holster sat on the back of his legs. Ransom placed himself on his back and silently began petting his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, brah, I needed that.” Shitty sighed, head squished down the sofa cushions.</p><p> </p><p>“We know,” They said in unison.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a little while since Bitty came down for some simple dinner before disappearing into his room again, and the mind-numbing silence was slowly making them all crazy.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we should just go to bed,” Jack said, stretching his legs on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“We just need someone to notify the others if he leaves,” Said Holster, stopping momentarily to tickle Shitty’s feet, making him squeak again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do that,” Jack said, “I’m not gonna sleep anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty stopped his squeaking for a short moment to frown at him. “Brah, that assignment is not due for a whole month.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but I might as well start now, right?” He shrugged. “There’s only gonna be more practice from now on, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty’s frown deepened but he kept quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Later, when everyone had gone to bed Jack was still up. His computer was open with a document, but he hadn’t written more than a couple of lines. He was waiting. Listening.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, about one-thirty Jack heard Bitty’s bedroom door open and then close. He kept quiet, silently listening for the front door. There was a click and he reached towards his window, watching Bitty walk down the street and away from the Haus.</p><p> </p><p>He jumped out at bed, sprinted to Shitty’s room all while trying texting Holster and Ransom.</p><p> </p><p>A minute later, after Shitty getting dressed in record time, they were walking fast-paced down the street.</p><p> </p><p>“How the fuck do we know where he’s going?” Holster said as they crossed another street.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo was hiked up on his back because she insisted that her legs were too short to keep up. Her phone was in her hand, resting on Holster’s shoulder. “Not to be creepy but he has his Snapchat map activated.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?” Jack said, shoving his beanie further down over his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Basically, it means, Zimmer-caveman, that I can see his location due to Snapchat’s very creepy new update that allows friends to see each other on a map. Bitty’s smart but apparently stupid enough to agree to this update.” Lardo sighed, eyes searching her screen before she paused. “Oh, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Ransom said. “Where is he?”</p><p> </p><p>“The rink.”</p><p> </p><p>Holster hoisted her further up on his back. “At Faber? What the fuck is he doing there?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know but let’s go get his ass.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Once they arrived at Faber Ransom ran up to the main entrance only to find it locked.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo slit down from Holster’s back. “Thought so.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Holster said, bending backward to crack his back.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pretty sure Bitty’s smart enough to use the backdoor to the locker rooms.” She said, already walking left towards the backdoors designed for when other teams came to play.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, the door was unlocked.</p><p> </p><p>Once they walked inside Shitty immediately stopped them from going further.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t know where he is so let’s split up.” He said, scratching his stache. “Holsom, you take the locker rooms,” Both D-men nodded and silently fist-bumped. “Jardo, you take the ice,” Jack shot Lardo a confused stare who just shook her head. “And I take the equipment room and cafeteria.” Shitty reached inside the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sunglasses and sliding them on. “Let’s find our southern peach cobbler.”</p><p> </p><p>And then Jack and Lardo were off, walking down the hall and towards the rink. Jack could sense Lardo’s unease as they reached the door (a door they usually didn’t use because it was the door for fans) and he held himself back from placing a hand on her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo took a deep breath and opened the door as silently as possible. Jack put a hand on it too, holding back the other half of the double doors as they slit inside.</p><p> </p><p>At first sight, the ice was empty, but Jack also knew that the rink didn’t normally have the lights turned on at night. Sure enough, as they walked forward they were met with a sight.</p><p> </p><p>Jack heard Lardo quietly suck in a short breath and drew a hand to her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty was sitting in the far left corner of the ice. No skates, no gear, just sitting in his dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt, leaning against the boards. He had a phone pressed to his ear, but he wasn’t talking. And grasped tightly in his right hand was only what Jack could identify as a bottle of scotch.</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. Bitty didn’t drink scotch. He drank sweet ciders and other sugary alcohols that made his cheeks pink, not wet. But as if on command Jack watched Bitty clumsily put the bottle to his lips and tipped his head backward, making it bump into to boards hard. It didn’t seem to bother him though because he held the bottle to his lips for multiple seconds before tipping it back down.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s almost half empty,” Lardo whispered, not taking her eyes off Bitty who clearly hadn’t spotted them yet. “Jack, that bottle is-“</p><p> </p><p>“-Almost half empty, yeah.” Jack sighed, feeling frozen on the spot. “What is he doing?” He kept his voice down, but from the looks of it, Bitty wasn’t noticing much of his surroundings anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“Shh, be quiet,” Lardo whispered, holding a hand out in front of Jack as if to hold him back.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo’s gaze was locked on Bitty as she strained her ear.</p><p> </p><p>Very subtlety, but still recognizable, the female voice of a phone service made her eyes snap up.</p><p> </p><p>“-<em>seven new messages, please press</em>-“</p><p> </p><p>“He’s listening to voicemails?” She said in confusion and Jack mirrored her look. Jack felt his mind trace back to all the times he heard that voice for himself. When he first arrived at Samwell he spent his Sundays listening to that same message, reminding him that his dad had called four times this week and he hadn’t answered any of them and was instead now listening to desperate voicemails from his father who just wanted to know how he was doing.</p><p> </p><p>“-<em>listen to the messages, please pre</em>-“</p><p> </p><p>Bitty pulled the phone away from himself and aggressively pressed a button on his screen before placing it back to his ear. His eyes were unfocused and dazed, gazing back and forth on the ice with no particular pattern,</p><p> </p><p>Jack and Lardo stood quietly, feet nailed to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>As Bitty took a swing of the bottle once more, the doors behind them quietly opened. They didn’t have to look around to know it was Ransom, Holster, and Shitty. The new arrivers stood behind them and Jack turned to look at them, but they were all watching Bitty with the same confusion as him and Lardo.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell is he doing?” Whispered Ransom, eyes squinting momentarily.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo’s were tightly pressed together before she spoke. “We think he’s listening to voicemails on his phone while being completely hammered.”</p><p> </p><p>The group of five stood silently and watched, holding their breath and waiting to see what would happen next.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t have to wait long because suddenly Bitty’s face changed from completely numb and hammered to angry and cold. A sort of maddening grunting sound came from his lips as he tried to stand up. It then became clear just how drunk Bitty was.</p><p> </p><p>The ice wasn’t helping but Bitty stumbled and practically latched into the boards to keep steady. His jeans were soaked, and his t-shirt was clinging to his back as if he had been lying down. It was nothing like watching tipsy Bitty maneuvering clumsily around in the kitchen at a Kegster or awkwardly trying to pull any of them onto the dance floor. Right now, Bitty looked completely wasted.</p><p> </p><p>Holster began moving forward but Shitty held him by the shoulder, firmly holding him back.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s see first, brah.” He whispered. Shitty’s eyes resembled what Jack only could identify as the ‘<em>Jack-you-need-to-breathe-it’s-okay-calm-down-brah’</em>-look.</p><p> </p><p>It was just then that Bitty found his balance on his two feet, pausing for a brief moment to pull the phone even tighter to his ear. He then began to heave and hiccupping like he was crying. Jack heard a quiet ‘fuck’ from his left, but he wasn’t focusing on anything else other than the furious, angry and sad look on Bitty’s face as the tears rolled down his already red cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty mumbled something Jack couldn’t hear, pushing himself away from the boards, the phone still tightly in his hand and pressed to the side of his face. He attempted to walk further onto the eyes, lips still moving but not making sense.</p><p> </p><p>As the mumbling continued Bitty slowly raised his volume until Jack realized what he was saying.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, shut up, fucking shut <em>up</em>-“</p><p> </p><p>A loud sort of yell came from the phone and Bitty, for a split second, looked scared. Jack saw it coming before it happened. Bitty pulled the phone from his ear and chucked it against the ice, shattering it.</p><p> </p><p>Jack flinched at the sound and Lardo had a hand to her mouth once again, this time with Shitty’s hand on her shoulder. Holster, standing behind Jack, cursed again and Ransom had his lips pulled in a tight line.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty, as if for a moment he forgot the alcohol in his system, slit over to the broken phone and stomped on it, eyes now visibly red and breath catching. He leaned forward, down over the shattered phone and yelled; “Leave me <em>alone</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>His voice cracked at the end, sending him into a fit of sobbing. A clumsy arm came up to wipe his face, but he was uncoordinated and only made himself nearly lose balance. Nearly tipping backward, making Jack’s heart stop for a brief moment, Bitty found his balance again and stood upright.</p><p> </p><p>He then looked down at the bottle in his hand and as if it had caught on flames him he threw it downwards, making it shatter all over the ice, coloring it with the remaining alcohol. The throw made him tip forward and he fell onto the ice on his knees. His hands were resting on the glass and alcohol covered skating surface as his cries filled the rink, making them all shutter.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fucking it,”</p><p> </p><p>It was Holster, parting Ransom and Jack like they weighed nothing and began running over to the nearest entrance into the ice. “He’s gonna get sick, for fuck sakes.” He yelled over his shoulder and that made Ransom set off too. By the time the D-men stepped onto the ice Bitty was lying down sideways and Shitty already running after them. Lardo moved next, leaving Jack completely frozen on the spot, feeling utterly useless.</p><p> </p><p>When Holster reached Bitty he immediately fell to his knees and removed his jacket. Ransom started putting both hands on Bitty’s shoulders and pulling him up. He went like a ragdoll as Holster attempted to put the jacket around his shoulders. Bitty was freezing.</p><p> </p><p>Holster felt sick to his stomach as he looked down on his teammate. Bitty’s hands were bleeding slightly, having left little red spots on the ice.</p><p> </p><p>Holster put a hand on the side of his face, turning his head towards him as Ransom disappeared out of his vision. “Bits, hey, Bitty? It’s me, Bits.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s head was heavy where it was resting on his thigh and his red eyes opened halfway. He looked on the brink of passing out cold.</p><p> </p><p>“-‘lster?” Bitty slurred.</p><p> </p><p>Holster smiled weakly. “Yeah, it’s me, I’m here with the team, we’re going to take you home, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>An incomprehensible mumble came from Bitty’s closed mouth as Shitty dropped down beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit, brah, his lips are blue,” He said, looking up at Holster and mirroring his worried look. He then turned around. “Jack! We need your beanie! Get your ass over here!”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty’s yelling made Jack move automatically and soon enough he was kneeling beside them, eyes locked on Bitty. Shitty pulled the beanie off his head and shoved it aggressively down over Bitty’s head and ears.</p><p> </p><p>He looked awful. Blue lips, eyes unfocused and drooping. If Jack’s gut feeling was right in about five minutes Bitty would either pass out or throw up. He didn’t know which one he hoped for.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, guys,” They all looked up and Ransom who was squatting down a few feet from them with his back turned. He stood up and faced them as his eyes locked on something in his gloved hand. It was a glass shard from the bottle. “I think this is the scotch Bitty bought for his dad,”</p><p> </p><p>Jack turned to watch Holster’s eyes widened and Shitty’s eyes narrow. As he turned back to Ransom he was holding up the label of the broken bottle. Jack didn’t recognize it.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Shitty said, squinting his eyes as if that would help him understand.</p><p> </p><p>“He bought it for his dad,” Lardo said, having been standing behind them. “It was a Christmas present. Apparently, his dad loves that brand, but it can’t be bought in normal stores. Bitty found a small shop here in town that sold it.” Her voice sounded confused and sad, matching the D-men’s expressions.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on guys, we have to get him out of here.” Holster said, grabbing Bitty under the armpits at the same time as he stood up. Bitty, still half awake, half unconscious, lolled his head back as he was carried bridal style off the ice.</p><p> </p><p>“’m cold.” He murmured into Holster’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>Holster squeezed him tighter. “We’re gonna warm you up, Bits, don’t worry okay?” He said, voice low and tight as he made his way over with Ransom holding onto his shoulders for balance.</p><p> </p><p>The rest followed, looking back at the mess that was left on the ice.</p><p> </p><p>As they all walked out, Jack glanced back one last time.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll clean it up tomorrow,” Lardo said, a hand on his shoulder and they left.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As they walked down the street the air was tense.</p><p> </p><p>Holster, Ransom, and Shitty walked side by side, all three eyeing their attention at Bitty who had begun talking a bit more. Shitty suspected it was the walking and the moving around that did it. He quickly glanced behind him where Lardo and Jack were walking a few paces back from them.</p><p> </p><p>“I got him,” Holster said for the second time after Ransom offered to carry Bitty for a bit. “He’s not that heavy.”</p><p> </p><p>Ransom nodded. “Okay, but just say the word. I can carry him for a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty looked down at Bitty who still had drying streaks of tears down his cheeks and too pale of a face. He only realized that Bitty was staring back at him when he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Where- where’re we goin’? He said, still slurring his words quite a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going home, Bits. Back to the Haus so you can get some sleep, yeah?” He said in a cheerful voice, hoping to cheer up his teammate by a fraction.</p><p> </p><p>But Bitty’s face fell and his eyes turned away from Shitty.</p><p> </p><p>Holster shared a look with Ransom as they continued down the street. As he hooked Bitty up in his arms to get a better grip the southern teammate looked back at Shitty.</p><p> </p><p>“Do I have shoes on?” He said, head lolling back on Holster’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>“You have your blue Converse on,” Holster said with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty looked up in surprise, staring down at his feet. Then he slumped back down in Holster’s arms. “’m cold,” He mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re gonna warm you right up when we get home-“</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s m’phone?”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them shared a look. Then Ransom cleared his throat awkwardly. Luckily Bitty was way too drunk to notice the tension.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm well, it’s broken, Bits.” He said apologetically. “But we’ll get you a new one!” Ransom smiled brightly at his teammate to cheer him up but Bitty didn’t react.</p><p> </p><p>“I need m’phone.” He slurred again, now jostling around in Holster’s grip. The movement made the D-man slow down, making everyone pause on the sidewalk. “Where issit?” Bitty now tried to stretch out his legs as if to jump out of Holster’s arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Bitty, calm down, we’ll get you a new phone okay?” Shitty said, placing a hand on Bitty’s thigh to keep him still. It worked momentarily.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I need my phone, you know- s’important,” As Bitty struggled again Holster was forced to put him down, hands now coming up to his shoulders to hold him steady. Bitty looked ready to fall on his face. “’mma go get it.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty placed a hand on his chest, holding him back. He saw that Jack and Lardo had also stopped just behind them. “Bitty, you’re cold remember? We’re gonna go home and warm you up, okay?” He said in a tone that made him sound like a kindergarten teacher.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty frowned and weakly tried to push his hand away but Holster still had a tight grip on him. “Coach- he called, I need to hear ‘im.” He said, sounding like he was about to cry. Like a frustrated child who was denied his favorite toy.</p><p> </p><p>“You can call him tomorrow from my phone, okay?” Ransom said, walking into Bitty’s line of vision, holding out his phone to demonstrate.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s frown deepened but he stopped struggling, allowing the D-man (Ransom this time) to pick him up bridal style and they continued the rest of the short way home.</p><p> </p><p>As they reached the front door Lardo sprung up behind them with the key and pushed it open.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty hadn’t said a word in a couple of minutes but as Ransom passed through the door he argued.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to- to go back and get m’phone,” He slurred, struggling in Ransom’s grip as he was placed down in one of the chairs in the living room. Even though their teammate was so drunk he couldn’t stand on his own two feet they still knew not to place him on the couch that he insisted was a health hazard. “My dad, coach-“ Bitty trailed off as he blinked slowly.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty squatted down in front of him as they all spread out in the living room. Jack went into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty, I know it’s late but if it’s that important, you can call your dad from my phone,” He said slowly, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and showing it to Bitty, though he doubted he even noticed it.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s head turned to him and he blinked slowly at him. Then he shook his head and released a drunken chuckled. “No, he don’ wanna talk to me,”</p><p> </p><p>Frowns spread throughout the room and Shitty felt his stomach settle weirdly. “I can call him if you want, or one of the guys or Lardo,” He said, “Do you want that, Bitty? We’ll call him if you want.”</p><p>Everyone nodded in agreement with Shitty’s suggestion but Bitty chuckled again.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he esp-especially” It took him three tries to say it correctly, “don’ wanna talk to any of you.” He said, finishing off with a snort and his eyes drifted shut for a few seconds, still completely out of it. He didn’t notice Jack entering the room with the water and a blanket from his room. He didn’t notice when said blanket was wrapped around him either.</p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn’t he wanna talk with any of us?” Ransom wondered out loud, sitting on the floor in front of the chair.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty looked at Ransom and chuckled silently again before his expression changed into something scary. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth shut tightly as if he suddenly remembered something he didn’t want to or if he had just stubbed his toe against a table. Then he smiled again but this time it wasn’t pleasing to witness.</p><p> </p><p>“He thinks y’all made me gay.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone froze at Bitty’s words and looked around at one another. Bitty had once again broken off into a drunken chuckle. A chuckle they were all used to hear at all the Kegsters, but this had a coldness to it that wasn’t usually there.</p><p> </p><p>No one knew what to say. Jack turned to look at Shitty, but Shitty’s eyes were frozen on Bitty with an expression he couldn’t read.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty, who didn’t notice any of it or even registered the change of atmosphere, kept going like nothing out of the ordinary.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’ think he wanna talk to y’all if he thinks you’re the reason he has a lil’ faggot son,” He said, smacking his lips together as his head rolled to the other side heavily. “’s stupid, I know but that- that’s what he thinks.”</p><p> </p><p>Though it wasn’t a nice thought, it wasn’t all that surprising. They all knew Bitty’s parents were very stereotypical southern Christian believers. Afterall, Bitty had spent the entire family weekend keeping his mom away from anything that seemed gay. They all knew it because Bitty had prepared them. He had especially prepared Lardo because he knew his mom would get problematic if she knew his team manager was bisexual. He had warned them a week before she came. They knew his parents weren’t supportive of his college choice or his background with figure skating. It wasn’t a surprise if his parents had reached a wrong conclusion this time either and assumed their son’s sexuality.</p><p> </p><p>Then, Lardo carefully stepped around Holster and ended up standing beside Ransom where he was sitting on the floor. Jack could see she hesitated, swallowing discreetly.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty,” She said, breaking the unbearable silence and getting Bitty’s attention all at the same time. “uhm…” Jack could see she was struggling, not knowing how to proceed without asking anything that suggested something. “You know you can tell us anything, right? We have your back.” She finished and Bitty smiled so brightly and genuine.</p><p> </p><p>“Lardo, you’re so silly,” He said, slumping forward and hugging her stomach tight. “…an’ warm.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty shared a look with Lardo over Bitty’s shoulder. Carefully she nudged the arms that reached around her off and Bitty, unfazed, fell back into the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty,” Shitty started. “Does your dad think you’re gay? Is that it?” Jack recognized the serious look in Shitty’s eyes. It was the same look he gave him when he helped him down from a panic attack. It was scary seeing it aimed at someone else because it always shook Jack in surprise to see his best friend shift so fast from his usual self to this serious, worried version of himself.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone held their breaths as Bitty eyed him up and down with an unrecognizable look.</p><p> </p><p>A snort left the drunk boy and he turned his head momentarily at Ransom on the floor and shook his head fondly as if saying <em>isn’t he silly? What a stupid thing to say</em>. Only Ransom wasn’t reacting. Then he turned back to Shitty. “You’re funny. Do you- where’s my phone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty, your phone is broken.”</p><p> </p><p>It was Holster, standing in the back with his arms crossed.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s expression turned sour. “But I <em>need</em> it.” Though his tone was angry, they all knew that too much alcohol and too many emotions turned Bitty into a ticking bomb.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that Bitty was a party-crier. He wasn’t the friend who got tipsy and then proceeded to snot on someone’s shoulder for the rest of the night. No, Bitty was the normal hype, funny, cheerful party person. But even Lardo knew that with one too many in the system even the happiest drunk person couldn’t possibly control their emotions. Because the thing that was so great about drunk Bitty was that his walls always came down just a little. Only there had only ever been great stuff on the other side. Now it was a different story, and they all seemed to know because nobody looked surprised when Bitty’s cheeks started to turn red and his eyes glossy. They had a feeling that they soon got to know what exactly hid behind Bitty’s walls.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty sat forward in the chair, almost tipping over if it weren’t for Holster’s hand on his shoulder tipping him back into the seat.</p><p> </p><p>“I need- wasn’t done, I need it.” He said, voice going more frustrated.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone looked unsure of what to do. Did they push for more information? Did they leave it alone? Did they drive back for his broken phone?</p><p> </p><p>Jack glanced back and forth between his teammates from his spot in the background. He felt useless but he had a feeling that so did the others.</p><p> </p><p>It was Lardo who spoke first, glancing quickly to Jack before turning her full attention to Bitty.</p><p> </p><p>“You weren’t done with what, Bitty? The voicemails?” She sounded unsure. She and Jack could have been wrong.</p><p> </p><p>But Bitty lolled his head in her direction and rolled his misty eyes. “Duh, what else?”</p><p> </p><p>Before the silence could stretch out into the uncomfortable Shitty pushed forward. “Who has been calling you, Bits?”</p><p> </p><p>It took a couple of seconds but Bitty finally met Shitty’s gaze and when he did he seemed so very tired but also confused as if he expected Shitty to know this. “What- what you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty swallowed. “Who has been leaving you voicemails?”</p><p> </p><p>Realization spread across Bitty’s face in a wide smile like he was proud of figuring it out. “Oh! Well… you know,” But then his voice trailed off and his smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Mostly m’family. Aunt Judy, m’uncles, couple cousins,” He paused and tilted his head to the ceiling, expression forming an animated question mark. “Oh, and- and my old high school teacher, Mrs. Jackson. She’s sucha nice lady…” His eyes slipped close for a few seconds and when he opened them they were shiny.</p><p> </p><p>Jack saw Shitty wipe a hand over his face along with the deep breathe let out by Holster.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would your high school teacher be calling you?” Ransom said, wondering out loud as if he mostly wanted to ask himself.</p><p> </p><p>But Bitty looked up from where his eyes had fixed on his lap and sniffled. His eyes were red as he looked around at all of them with a questionable look. Bitty didn’t glance at Jack to where he stood by the door. He didn’t seem to notice him at all actually.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t I just tell y’all?” He said, and before they could even begin to work up an answer Bitty let out a cold snort. “’m a faggot.” He smiled as a tear rolled down both of his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving them dry and heaving for something, anything. Instead, the sound of nothing at all seemed to fill every inch of the room and ring into their ears, too loud and too obvious. Everything was too much, and Jack saw it all unfold from his place by the door. Lardo’s eyes widened as she on instinct turned and fixed her eyes on Shitty. Ransom and Holster looked at each other with unreadable expressions but Jack could see their foreheads drawing together in confusion. Ransom’s half-open mouth seemed to slam shut as he and Holster did that silent communication thing, and though Jack could only see Holster’s side profile from where he stood he could still clearly see the same determination he saw in his other teammate. Then Jack turned to Shitty who had buried his face in his hands, missing everything Jack saw across the room. And somehow that was the worst of it all.</p><p> </p><p>Waking up from the slow-motion reaction that had gone through the room, Jack realized he had grabbed the doorframe right as though it was supposed to hold him up.</p><p> </p><p>As the silence stretched on, creeping its way into the corners of the room and seeping into their skin, the ear-piercing sound of quiet sniffles drowned everything. It was as if everyone had unfrozen from their locked reaction and turned to their crying, drunk out of his mind teammate. A teammate who had apparently just come out to them. A coming out he might not even get to remember.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty folded an arm over his face as his lips pressed together tightly when he struggled to conceal a sob that Jack felt in his very soul. He drew his legs up to his face, making himself as small as possible as he nearly undetectably whispered out a “<em>’m sorry</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Jack could hear the sound of glass breaking in the back of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo was the first to move, standing up and pulling the ball of Bitty into her arms. “Bitty, stop that, you’re fine, yeah?” Her voice was stern and hard, but Jack could hear the cracking of it underneath. He could see the tight grip she closed around him, the muscles in her shoulders tensing. Her eyes were fixed on the wall in front of her, hard and waving with emotion.</p><p> </p><p>This time the sob wasn’t caught in Bitty’s throat, and though he didn’t move he still let himself be pulled into Lardo’s embrace. That seemed to wake serious concern more than anything.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty wasn’t shy about physical affection. He embraced it, sought it out from anyone willing to give it to him. But happy Bitty was a whole lot different from sad Bitty. After a lost game or a practice filled with passing out Bitty would act like any physical touch burned him. Seeing him shy away from it the first time had been a scary realization, but this just seemed to top it. Because Bitty was miserable and still willingly letting his teammates embrace him. Jack didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or the subject of matter, or both.</p><p> </p><p>Holster, who Jack knew to be frustrated whenever he felt useless, had placed both hands on Bitty’s legs in a desperate attempt to help with something, anything. Ransom had stood up as well, standing warily behind Lardo and observing with creased eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>“You we-weren’t supposed t’ know.” Bitty’s voice was weak and wet, muffled by his knees and Lardo’s stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t care, okay?” Lardo said harshly. “We love you, we don’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>For a while, Bitty just seemed to cry. Sobbing muffled cried into his knees and arms, hair getting stroked by Lardo and arms around him from all sides. Jack and Shitty were the only ones who hadn’t moved.</p><p> </p><p>Then after a few minutes, Bitty spoke again, this time even quieter and weaker than before. But it still silenced the whole room.</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’ tell Jack.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s mouth opened and drew in a sharp breath of air as his hand tightened around the doorframe.  He didn’t even notice Shitty who tore his head away from his hands, sharp eyes darting to his best friend. Then he launched himself at his smaller teammate, prying his arm away from his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Bitty, what do you mean by that?” Shitty said, holding Bitty’s red and swollen face between his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s face screwed up again, snot and tears all over it. He let out a cry and squeezed his eyes shut before murmuring a quiet; “I don’ wanna get kicked off the team.”</p><p> </p><p>Shitty looked in disbelieve at his teammate. “Hey, why would you get kicked off the team? Bits, Jack would never-“</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t pay by m’self,” Bitty interrupted with a snotty sob. His breathing was picking up, evolving to tight, small gasps. “I can’t pay, I can’t-“</p><p> </p><p>Shitty’s gaze hardened. “Bitty, please listen. No one would <em>ever</em> kick you off the team for- for that. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>But Bitty’s breathing didn’t slow down. Shitty felt his teammate’s head get heavy in his grip as he realized he had lost Bitty’s focus. “But I‘m gay, I’m-“</p><p> </p><p>“And it doesn’t matter, Bits. We don’t give a flying rat’s ass if-“ Shitty stopped, biting his lower lip as his head fell to his chest. When he continued his voice was strained. “You’re Bitty. Just Bitty, nothing else, alright? Don’t- don’t let that…” He trailed off briefly. “Bitty, you’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty looked at him with dusty, unfocused eyes wet with tears all while his breathing quickened.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty bit his lip in defeat. He couldn’t calm him down. It wasn’t like Jack, this was Bitty and Shitty couldn’t calm him down. So he looked up at the people around him before his eyes locked on Ransom.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna throw up if he keeps that up,” Ransom said, jogging quickly out of the room. He passed by Jack, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder and a hand briefly stroking through his hair before he was off to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m-“ Bitty heaved, head shaking out of Shitty’s hold and falling between his legs. Lardo had let go of him and was instead squatted down beside Shitty trying to get a look at his face.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty grabbed Bitty’s head between his hands again. Bitty’s eyes were wet and though they locked on his teammate’s face Shitty could tell he wasn’t really aware of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty, hey, Bits, are you gonna be sick? Hang in there okay?” Bitty’s head was heavy in his hands as he turned to shout. “Ransom, get your ass in here!”</p><p> </p><p>“Coming!” Ransom brushed passed Jack and quickly made his way around to place the bucket in front of Bitty’s now very pale face.</p><p> </p><p>“’m sorry,” Bitty said between gasps of air. His cheeks were wet and his forehead sweaty. His left hand sought out blindly and grabbed onto Lardo’s shirt before he leaned forward and threw up in the bucket.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty, who held back the front strands of Bitty’s hair that weren’t even long enough for it to be a problem, flinched slightly but turned to rub his back. Jack saw him turn away briefly to look at nothing, blinking rapidly before turned back to Bitty, continuing to rub his back as his teammate threw up for the second time.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, Bitty, you’re okay.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for the kind comments!!! It's what motivates me and inspires me so thank you!!!</p><p>Here's chapter 2, as promised&lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack watched silently at the bottom of the stairs as Holster carried Bitty up to his room. He had passed out not a minute after throwing up the third time and no one had the heart to wake him up.</p><p> </p><p>Jack knew it was late and that he should go to bed so his sleeping schedule didn’t get too messed up, but he couldn’t get his legs to move. They were shaking slightly and he couldn’t decide it if was because of his lack of sleep or something else. He tried to convince himself it was the former.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until Shitty returned from the kitchen after washing and cleaning up after Bitty and laid a hand on his shoulder that Jack tore his gaze away from the stairs in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey buddy,” Shitty said, squeezing both of his shoulders tightly. “Let’s go upstairs and crash, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack swallowed and opened his mouth to say something. He settled on nodding when his throat closed in on itself.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty pushed him up the stairs and stopped him in front of his room. The hands on his shoulders turned him around and Jack was met with Shitty’s very worried, yet very determined face.</p><p> </p><p>“Lardo’s sleeping in Bitty’s room so he doesn’t wake up alone or vomits all over himself,” He said, nodding towards the room across the hall. “I’m gonna sleep with you so you don’t have a panic attack and vomit all over yourself, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack snapped his eyes down to Shitty’s. “No, Shits it’s okay-“</p><p> </p><p>“No, shut the fuck up Jack, we’re gonna cuddle whether you like it or not.” Shitty shot him a look that said ‘<em>I dare you to disagree’</em>. Jack sighed and opened the door to his room, feeling his best friend enter behind him. “I promise I’ll keep my underwear on.” He said and Jack didn’t have the energy to vocalize his gratitude.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The cold air hit Eric’s back as he rolled over on his side. It was almost enough to make him open his eyes but as the pounding pain in his skull made its presence he squeezed them shut instead. The sunlight on his eyelids reminded him that he forgot to pull down the curtains last night. And as the feeling of an arm draping over his waist occurred to him he apparently also forgot that he slept together with someone else.</p><p> </p><p>Eric took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He was met with a drooling Lardo sharing his pillow, her hair looking like a porcupine. He momentarily tried to lift his head to try to catch a glance at his alarm clock but the pain shooting through his head made him promptly lay his head back down beside Lardo’s.</p><p> </p><p>It was then he was reminded why his head was shooting bullets. His dad’s scotch, the rink, the Haus…</p><p> </p><p>Drawing his knees up to his chest Eric ignored the stabbing pain in his side and placed his hands over his eyes. The embarrassment washed over him like a cold shower, and he felt his throat constrict painfully in its dryness. His memory was foggy but not foggy enough to make him forget the bad decisions and the consequences that had followed. He had talked. A lot. Too much. And though he couldn’t remember the exactness of his words he still knew exactly what kind of information he had let slip. <em>It was only a matter of time… </em>he thought to himself but the lazy attempt to justify last night’s events only added a few pounds to the weight that was squeezing his chest. He had only just woken up a couple of minutes ago, but the heaviness had already settled in place, right over his lungs, slowing making its way down to his airway and throat, making him draw in a panicked breath through his nose. His palms were damp over his eyes, but he barely registered it.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know how long he laid there, breathing measured and slowly through his nose with the palms of his hands tightly pressed over his red eyes, but by the time a couple of hands grasped his wrist, it felt as though an eternity had passed.</p><p> </p><p>The fingers gently tried to pry his hands from his face and Eric felt his resistance slipping as he only gave a weak attempt to stop them.</p><p> </p><p>As his hands left his face they were enveloped in another pair of hands by his chest.</p><p> </p><p>He sniffed as he slowly opened his eyes, instantly not meeting Lardo’s gaze he knew waited for him. He locked them on their intertwined hands instead.</p><p> </p><p>Their foreheads were almost touching, and Eric felt her breath on his face. He wondered if his own breath smelled of alcohol or vomit or both. He squeezed his eyes shut again.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Bitty,” Lardo said, voice careful and low but still laced with her usual non-bullshit characteristic. She nudged her head against his and he could feel the coolness of her skin, making it embarrassingly obvious that he was kind of having a silent mental breakdown in bed.</p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth to speak but found himself lost. He was just supposed to say good morning, but somehow the words got swallowed and he just blinked instead.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s your head feeling?” She prodded, and the slight teasing in her voice made Eric finally look up.</p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat and sniffled again. “Pounding.” He choked, suddenly realizing just how thirsty he actually was.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo sat up, turned away from him and returned with a glass of water and two small, white pills. She looked down at him with waiting eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, sit up,” She gestured with her head and for a moment Eric wanted to kick her off the bed, but he swallowed the thought and pushed himself up on his elbows, trying not to show the stabbing pain in his ribs on his face. Lardo’s face indicated that he didn’t quite succeed.</p><p> </p><p>Quietly wiping his eyes with his arm, he reached out and took the glass from Lardo. She smiled and handed over the pills too.</p><p> </p><p>“For the head, don’t pretend you don’t need them.” She said, crossing her legs in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>When the pills were swallowed, and the empty glass placed on the nightstand Eric didn’t have anything to hide behind.</p><p> </p><p>The complete feeling of being lost leeched itself onto him, stealing his ability to breathe properly. He lowered his head to his chest and tried to concentrate on the air leaving and entering his lungs. Lardo seemed to be content with waiting for him.</p><p> </p><p>He registered weakly that his cheeks were getting damp again, but his focus was elsewhere. He could hear the birds outside, the occasional car passing by outside. It seemed to peaceful in comparison to the events of last night. The images that flashed by behind his eyelids made him press his lips together tightly.</p><p> </p><p>Then the sound of music made its way to the room. Eric could hear the musical numbers that Holster adored play throughout the Haus and the loud, very clear voice of the second D-man singing along. The sound would’ve put a smile on his lips if he didn’t feel like his world was falling apart around him.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re making pancakes,” Lardo pulled him from his thoughts, tone still patient as ever. “Shitty’s supervising them but I don’t trust him to make sure they don’t break anything.” Her voice was laced with a fondness Eric only ever got to hear occasionally.</p><p> </p><p>There was no avoiding it. He was going to have to deal with the mess of circumstances whether he liked it or not. Even though all he wanted was to crawl out the window and disappear to another state or, even better, country.</p><p> </p><p>But the thought of his teammates destroying his kitchen was enough to lift his head. He looked at Lardo’s shoulder. “Well,” he began, ignoring the shivering in his voice. “Better make sure they don’t destroy Betsy more than necessary, right?”</p><p> </p><p>His gaze briefly met Lardo who smirked at him and reached up to drag a thumb under his eyes. Then she stood up from the bed and held out a hand for him to take.</p><p> </p><p>As he entered the kitchen the smell of butter and sugar hit him in the face like a sweet memory. It also reminded him that he hadn’t baked in nearly a week. It was hard to plaster a smile on his face after that.</p><p> </p><p>But as Lardo dragged him behind her and sat him at the table the boys didn’t seem to notice, or at least they didn’t comment on his red eyes and non-smiling face.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty!” Holster announced, standing by the stove with a turner in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. He was wearing Eric’s apron that read ‘<em>Does this apron make my dick look big?</em>’, an April fools gift he received last year. “I swear, we haven’t burned anything yet.” He said, holding both hands up in defends.</p><p> </p><p>Ransom, who was standing beside Holster with the batter in front of him and an anxious hand on the pan, looked up at his best friend in a scandalous manner. “Dude, you burned the first three.” He said, holding up the whisk from the pancake batter.</p><p> </p><p>Holster turned to look sourly at Ransom, which returned the gesture by sticking out his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>Eric looked at them, feeling the fondness spread in his chest as well as a bitter sadness. He wouldn’t ever have that closeness.</p><p> </p><p>The boys seemed to sense the obvious mood by the lack of response and silently went back to the pancakes. Lardo had seated herself opposite him, leaning back in the chair with a cup of coffee warming her hands. She leaned forward.</p><p> </p><p>“We were thinking we could eat some breakfast and then talk if you want,” She said, and Eric was amazed at how casual she sounded. It was comforting when the situation was anything but casual. “We don’t all have to be here, you can just talk to me or Shitty or anyone really, but we want you to know that we all want to support you and be there for you. But there’s no pressure.” Eric’s shoulders pressed to his ears as Lardo took a sip and eyes him up and down. He could feel it in his spine. “Or you don’t have to talk at all, but I think that’s super stupid because you’re really sad, Bits, and we figured out yesterday how that has been like handling on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t notice he had been twisting his hands together until Lardo uncurled them and took them into her own.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re allowed to need us, to want support,” She said and Eric cursed himself for his vision getting blurry again. “We <em>want</em> you to need us, Bitty.”</p><p> </p><p>A shiver went through him, rushing from the base of his neck to his toes. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but the feeling in the back of his throat told him that he wouldn’t like what would come out. So instead he swallowed the noise building in his throat and nodded stiffly.</p><p> </p><p><em>You’re going to regret saying that, </em>he thought to himself as Lardo smiled at him and pulled him up to stand. She pulled him to the living room and seated him in the chair as she moved to sit on the armrest of it.</p><p> </p><p>Time went by in a haze Eric couldn’t decide was moving too slow or far too fast, because it seemed that little by little the living room filled. He barely noticed Lardo yelling that the weak excuse of pancakes was ready or that Shitty entered while dragging a very rough-looking Jack behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Holster and Ransom had placed the pancakes along with plates and maple syrup on the table but none of them reached for it. Eric’s gaze was locked upon his hands in his lap and he could only faintly feel the sensation of Lardo’s fingers casually running through his hair. He couldn’t be the first to break the silence. He couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>But he barely had time to think the thought through before Shitty spoke up. He was the only one who wasn’t sitting down and had instead chosen to stand up, which both stressed and calmed Eric at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s your head?” He asked calmly, and Eric nearly lifted his head to look at his teammate in surprise. It wasn’t the question he had expected.</p><p> </p><p>Clearing his throat he answered.</p><p> </p><p>“The pills I took helped a bit.” Eric kept his eyes away from eye contact and instead chose to stare at Shitty’s knees.</p><p> </p><p>And then there was silence again.</p><p> </p><p>Eric was almost curious enough to look at Jack just to see how badly he had fucked up but the fear of finding out was enough to stop that from happening, even though the only thing he wanted to do was to get lost in the familiar blue eyes and lock everything else out forever. But that couldn’t happen.</p><p> </p><p>Then Holster awkwardly cleared his throat. “We uhm, we got you a new phone,” He started, and Eric’s head shot up. “It’s not, like, the best but it works and uhm yeah, just until you-“</p><p> </p><p>“You bought me a phone?” Eric interrupted. Lardo’s hand left his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah,” Ransom added. “Just a temporary one, though. Don’t get your hopes up.”</p><p> </p><p>Ransom then reached into his pocket and places a phone on the table. It was an old model, but it was cheap and had the necessary functions one could need. Eric was floored.</p><p> </p><p>He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and decided to just sit on his hands if he couldn’t get them to behave. His eyes were still on the phone. “You didn’t have to do that.” He said and as the silence passed he feared they might not have heard him at all.</p><p> </p><p>“It was nothing, Bits.” Holster said after a while but as no one added anything the silence once again found its way to every corner of the living room.</p><p> </p><p>It was suffocating. It was squeezing its way around them, pulling them into an imaginary headlock and made it so hard to breathe Eric was considering opening every goddamn window just to escape it.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel it in his breathing. He was anxious and embarrassed and <em>scared</em>, which hadn’t proved to be very good factors for his lungs in the past. He could manage it but not for long and it was killing him. They all seemed so skittish. Like he was some kind of hurt puppy they didn’t want to poke at. Like he would run away screaming as soon as they said a word.</p><p> </p><p> “Can y’all just say something please?”</p><p> </p><p>Eric’s words left his mouth before he could stop them and to his surprise, his voice was measured and calm. As he dared himself to look up he saw that everyone was staring back at him. It was somehow terrifying and, in a weird way, comforting. They were at least not pretending he wasn’t there.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you have questions and all that and, uhm, I-I can answer them,” He continued when no one said anything. His voice was losing its confidence. “I owe you that at least.”</p><p> </p><p>That seemed to kick Shitty into gear and strode across the room and sat on the coffee table in front of Eric in a blink of an eye. His face was stern and still, focusing on every inch of Eric’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty,” He began with a voice underlined with immense determination. “You do not owe us <em>anything</em>.”  The hand in Eric’s hair returned and as he couldn’t look away from his teammate’s fierce eyes he almost thanked Lardo out loud for keeping him grounded once again. “We can all leave this room and never ask or talk about <em>shit</em>, and it would be okay. If you never want us to even <em>think</em> about all of this again we won’t.” Shitty paused to chew on his bottom lip as he searched Eric’s face again, looking for God knows what. He then let out a deep sigh as if bracing himself. “But,” Eric felt himself shiver at the word. “Every fucker in this room will do anything for you,” By then the air had completely left his lungs. “And that includes supporting you and loving you, <em>not </em>in spite of, but <em>because</em> of everything you are or choose to be.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric’s fingers were numb under his thighs and without realizing what was happening he pulled them away from under him and placed them in his lap for Shitty to grab onto. And Shitty did. Grabbed his palms and fingers and wrists tighter than his thighs could ever squeeze them, and the pressure made the air rush into his lungs with a sound that could only be described as pure relief.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty’s thumbs ran up and down the back of his hands as he pulled his attention back to him. “I won’t lie, Bits, we’re all really curious and confused, but we only want you to tell us what you feel comfortable with and them maybe drop some names so we can go on a little killing spree on whoever the fuck made you feel like this.”</p><p> </p><p>The comment pulled a choked laugh from Eric that mostly just sounded wet, but it was a laugh, nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty returned it with a smile that could erase every cold shiver he had ever felt. He was looking at Eric like he was brave. Like he could do anything and Shitty would still be proud. Still be there. And as he looked up at Lardo and around the room at Holster, Ransom and even Jack, they all looked the same.</p><p> </p><p>Eric wasn’t brave but he would try to be. For them.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm,” He trembled with an uncertainty that still hadn’t quite left him yet, but the fear that locked his spine had already loosened up immensely. He knew he had their attention and the patience painted in Shitty’s eyes told him he had their time as well. “I-I came out to my parents at the end of the break.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric’s cheeks were warm but for once he wasn’t crying. His voice did the job of displaying his vulnerability.</p><p> </p><p>The faces around the room shifted. Both Shitty’s and Holster’s eyebrows ached together, and Eric quickly had to remind himself that it wasn’t him they were mad at. Lardo instinctively pulled him towards her as she leaned behind him so he could lean his head on her stomach. The hands in his hair had traveled down and were now hugging him around his neck and resting over the center of his chest. Jack, who was sitting furthest away on the couch beside Holster, had a look on his face that almost resembled something that Eric could only describe as sad. And somehow that was the worst of it all.</p><p> </p><p>Eric took a deep breath and busied himself with fiddling with Lardo’s painted nails. “They uhm, well Coach mostly kicked me out after that. My mama mostly just cried.” He paused unwillingly to get lost in the pictures that flashed past behind his eyelids.</p><p> </p><p>Coach hadn’t said much at first, just looked at him with eyes so cold that Eric almost fell off his chair. He tried to explain, of course. Tried to explain that he had always been like this. That he was still their son, the same Dicky. That, no it wasn’t something they had done. That he loved them and that he was scared. It wasn’t until his mama started crying that things really took off. After that, it had been quick. Eric had already packed a bag because even though he hoped, <em>prayed</em>, that the fear was all in his head, he also knew what his parents were like and that making a quick escape might turn to reality. He had been right in the end, of course. His dad had quietly told him to go pack his bags and get out because he had overstayed his welcome now. His mama had her face buried in her hands, sobbing <em>why, why us Ricky, what did we do wrong?</em> She didn’t even look up when he left the table and walked to his room. It had been a blur from there. The last thing he remembers was Coach saying “<em>Don’t come back. You’re upsetting your mama and we don’t want your sort around here</em>” and the image of his mama crying on the phone in the kitchen, talking to his aunt</p><p> </p><p>“It was over fast, so…” Eric paused, inhaling through his nose and he found it clocked. He also registered that his cheeks were slightly damp. “I just left quickly after that. Didn’t want any trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a short silence before Holster spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“Did he hit you?” He asked, and Eric could see the fire in his eyes. It almost made him smile. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “No, uhm, Coach didn’t hit me.”</p><p> </p><p>He hoped they would leave it. It hadn’t been that bad. He locked eyes with his lap, hoping they would ask about something else. Anything.</p><p> </p><p>He almost thought they would, but his relief was short-lived as Jack chose to speak for the first time since they entered the living room.</p><p> </p><p>“Did someone else?”</p><p> </p><p>Eric's head snapped up to meet Jack’s eyes, finally. They were narrowed and on the tip of angry. He turned to look at Shitty still sitting in front of him and saw a similar expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” He started but his throat had closed in on itself.</p><p> </p><p>After Eric had left he had walked around crying silently in the neighborhood for about half an hour in search of a place he could call a cab before his cousins found him.</p><p> </p><p>Living in a small southern town had its downfalls, like the news traveling fast and that you had family around basically every corner. When Eric was younger it had been amazing. Only a ten minute ride on his bike and he had been with family and playmates. It became less great by the time he grew up to understand the difference between himself and his family. Johnny, Peter, and Marcus had been fun to play with when Eric was 7 and they were about the same, but as he moved on to college and they moved on to work at their dads’ businesses Eric was suddenly much more fun to taunt. He hadn’t been bothered by it much since he had always been the odd one out. After he had started to figure skate they had been actively ignoring his existence anyway, and Eric had found joy in playing with his female cousins instead.</p><p> </p><p>So he hadn’t seen it coming, but as he saw them rounding the corner ahead of him he knew what was about to happen. Because he knew how news traveled fast in a small southern town with family all around you.</p><p> </p><p>That too had been over rather quickly. They were three, Eric was one, and they all weighed about double his weight. Luckily for him, they seemed to know that too and left him curled up on the ground after only a couple of kicks to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Try to show your face here again, I dare you</em>.” Johnny had said, spitting in his face. “<em>Fucking faggot.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>They had left after that and Eric didn’t move for quite a while until he pulled himself together and found a place to call a cab to go to the airport. And that had been that.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty,” It was Lardo’s voice that pulled him back to the surface. He almost let himself look at her. “Do you want to take a break?”</p><p> </p><p>His feet squirmed at the thought. “No, no it’s fine,” His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth as he pulled himself together. “My cousins, they- well, news travel fast in Madison-“</p><p> </p><p>“Your <em>cousins</em>?” Shitty blurted, suddenly squeezing his hands considerably tighter than before.</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t that bad-“ But Eric was interrupted by Shitty’s hard gaze that told him not to pretend or lie. “It’s just a bent rib or two,” He confessed and continued before anyone could give a reaction. “But the bruising has already healed a lot, I promise.”  He ducked his head and tried to resist the urge to wrap his arms around himself.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty sighed yet again but it still didn’t seem to be impatient or tired. “We have to check up on that, you know that right?” He said ducking his own head down to meet Eric’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Eric nodded, lips thin. “I can still play.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll let Coach Murray and Coach Hall judge that,” Jack said instead, and Eric suddenly wanted to sprint out of there and disappear, because Jack’s eyes were determent and Eric knew that meant he had fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Left his mouth instead and all eyes fell on him again.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, no that’s not-“ Shitty started but Eric knew what he was about to say.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m sorry. I owe everyone an apology after yesterday,” He paused to let go of Shitty’s hand to rub his own over his face, both to hide and to wipe the leftover tears on his cheeks. “Y’all didn’t need to do that and I’m sorry you had to witness and literally <em>carry</em> me-“</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god Bitty, shut the fuck up,” Lardo interrupted him and he looked up at her in confusion. “We really don’t care about what happened yesterday other than the fact that you were sad <em>as fuck</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s right,” Holster added and then Ransom: “Bits, we can literally bench press you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know how much you saw,” Eric added because he was still confused and missing some pieces.</p><p> </p><p>“Jack and I walked in on you listening to voicemails.” She said though it sounded a bit like a question, like she wasn’t sure if they had been imagining it.</p><p> </p><p>A deep breath left his lungs as he buried his head in his hands. “Oh god, the voicemails…”</p><p> </p><p>“You only said who was calling you, not what they said or why they were calling,” Shitty added. “You don’t have to tell us.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric failed the resistance of holding back a snort. “I think y’all can imagine why they called.” He said defeated, hating how he was being so transparent.</p><p> </p><p>There was a deafening silence, but Eric knew he wasn’t supposed to be the one to break it.</p><p> </p><p>“But then why listen to them?” It was Jack who asked, and Eric wanted to hug him and punch him at the same time. He made it sound so simple.</p><p> </p><p>He braced himself and looked at his captain who was such a caring person that it was enough for Eric to feel like he didn’t deserve it, and sometimes that was what angered him the most. “Because I wanted to know if there was anyone left who didn’t hate me.” His voice was bitter, and he was surprised at how angry he sounded.</p><p> </p><p>Jack's face fell and Eric could see him swallow. It was enough to make him feel guilty because this wasn’t Jack’s fault. He just asked a question.</p><p> </p><p>It made Eric think back at the night before. He had been horrible. Drunk enough for his stupid, irrational fears to surface and make him present like a fucking Pride Parade. He had accused Jack of something he knew his captain could never be capable of. All because his stupid fear of rejection couldn’t leave him alone. Because Eric knew Jack would never kick him off the team for being gay. But Eric also doubted that Jack wouldn’t if he found out that his gay teammate was about as in love with him as anyone could be.</p><p> </p><p>Eric just felt his eyes burn again when Jack spoke again, eyes locked on his lap. “We- We don’t hate you, Bittle.”</p><p> </p><p>The words were a punch in the stomach because although Eric knew they were true it didn’t compare to hear them leave Jack’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a part of the team.” This time Jack glanced up at him briefly, and Shitty had turned his torso in favor of watching over his best friend.</p><p> </p><p>The guilt that had been growing in Eric’s stomach was now hurting and twisting beneath his skin. He knew he had to say something.</p><p> </p><p>“Jack, I’m sorry, I-” It left him like a whistle.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine, Bittle,” Jack interrupted, waving a lazy hand at him and scratched the back of his neck. “I understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s-“ Eric trialed off again, feeling his throat squeeze with fresh tears but he resisted.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re gonna go reheat the pancakes if you want to talk,” Shitty announced and Jack looked like he was about to protest when Eric bit the chance.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Shitty.” He said carefully, and Shitty nodded understandingly.</p><p> </p><p>The rest filed out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving only Eric and a very uncomfortable looking Jack. Eric couldn’t really blame him.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling his knees to his chest on the chair, Eric carefully let himself look at Jack. He looked tired.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Jack,” He hesitated until Jack finally looked at him. “For what I said yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack moved to scratch his neck again but paused the movement and decided to fold his hands in his lap instead. “It’s fine, Bittle. I told you.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric shook his head. “It’s not. I know you wouldn’t kick me off the team for something like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Jack said, a nervous laugh clocking his throat that sounded more anxious than anything. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Eric decided to stand up and walk to the other end of the couch. He leaned up against the opposite armrest and sighed heavily. “Jack, you’ve been an amazing captain,” Jack looked up at him at that. “And I’m sorry I made you seem like some monster that you so clearly aren’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack was looking at him silently, not moving an inch. “Then why did you sound so scared?” He whispered after a minute of silence.</p><p> </p><p>“I was afraid you were gonna be uncomfortable with me,” Eric confessed, swallowing down his urge to run out and escape instead. “I didn’t want to be the reason we didn’t connect on the ice and I didn’t want to change line. I knew you would hate it, and we play so well right now and this is your last year. I didn’t want to be the reason that it was ruined.”</p><p> </p><p><em>How do you not see it?</em> Eric thought, looking desperately at the reason for his heartache, <em>how do you not notice how obvious I am?</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>But Jack just looked at him, dumbstruck, not seeing the thing Eric thought was so obvious it might as well be slapping him in the face.</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s eyes searched him, up and down, with the same face Eric saw him examine tapes with. Then he stopped and stared straight at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bitty,” Jack began, and Eric felt himself exhale a shaking breath. Jack never called him Bitty. Always Bittle. Always that painful metaphor of Eric’s and Jack’s relationship. “Nothing you do could ever make me uncomfortable,” Jack’s eyes were bored into his, so much determination that Eric had only seen at face-offs. “Ever. I promise.” Eric almost believed him. “And the game doesn’t matter if you’re unhappy. The team comes first.”</p><p> </p><p>“But Jack, this is-“ Eric started but Jack cut him off.</p><p> </p><p>“My last season, I know,” He sighed and turned to mirror Eric’s sitting position, leaning up against the armrest. “But no matter what our team accomplishes or doesn’t accomplish this year, it doesn’t matter. I have contract offers already, so if you’re thinking that this would in any way affect my career you’re wrong, Bitty.” Those icy blue eyes were piercing him, tearing down his walls and Eric hated every second of it because he loved it. “The game is never more important than my teammates. It’s never more important than you.”</p><p> </p><p>Eric looked at Jack, speechless, and felt the hole that had achingly settled at the pit of his heart slightly decrease.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After that time passed by in what could only be described as a dazed rush. Everyone had promised to keep Eric’s secret to themselves until he would gather the courage and tell the frogs, and the first few weeks back at practice Eric was on the bench. Lardo had gone with him to the school nurse who had given him a good amount of painkillers and a note to his coaches that stated he was advised against playing for at least two weeks.</p><p> </p><p>Overall, things could’ve been worse.</p><p> </p><p>Actually, things were turning out for the better, at least in some areas.</p><p> </p><p>Eric’s mood had improved a lot, all things considered, and even when he was hit with a wave of memories that reminded him of all the things he was desperately trying to forget the team would have his back. He didn't have to hide.</p><p> </p><p>Lardo had taken the role of showing him all the gay hangouts, bars, shops around campus and the city. Shitty had already bought several rainbow pins and aprons, and though Eric rarely wore them Shitty never complained or asked, and was instead actively wearing the items himself. Holster and Ransom had even gotten him a phone number or two, and the gesture was both hilarious and heartwarming even if Eric never called them.</p><p> </p><p>But what was most surprising was Jack. The captain had not only increased the number of checking practices but had also begun to join him at coffee shops before and after classes. He had picked up a habit of popping into the kitchen whenever Eric was baking and ask if he needed help. Eric felt guilty when he turned him away, but the clutching feeling in his heart wasn’t going away any time soon and being around the guy behind it all often hurt just as much as it comforted. But the few times Eric had let him help Jack had smiled so genuinely that Eric could never really regret it, even though it hurt to spend so much time with him.</p><p> </p><p>Because Jack was like the sun. He was beautiful and bright, and Eric needed him close, but having him too close would only ever hurt.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>≡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jack could slowly see Bitty return to his normal self. He began to smile more and even though he had to spend the first two weeks on the bench he never complained once. He was finally baking again, filling the Haus with pop-music he couldn’t recognize and the smell of pies that he could. Things were slowly improving.</p><p> </p><p>Jack had on the contrary gotten a little lost in his own head. The incident with Bitty had left him shellshocked. Bitty, who was so important to the team, to <em>him</em>, had been going through the worst thing that could possibly happen and he had been doing it alone. It had taken Shitty three days to convince him that it was a bad idea to drive down to Georgia and do very illegal things, no matter how angry Bitty’s family made him.</p><p> </p><p>It had been hard to be around Bitty. Jack felt awkward because he didn’t want to treat Bitty differently after what happen and make him think that Jack wasn’t accepting or something. But the shifting feeling he had around his teammate was forcing him to look at him differently anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Shitty and Lardo were still the only ones who knew that Jack was bi, and Jack had many times considered telling this to Bitty as well, just to say that he wasn’t alone, that Jack really couldn’t be more accepting of liking guys because he was the same as him. But Jack always backed out. He didn’t want Bitty to think that he was only telling him to hit on him. Shitty had once told him about the whole thing about how just because two guys were both attracted to guys it didn’t mean they were attracted to each other. Jack didn’t want to make Bitty uncomfortable or make himself seem like an asshole. Bitty deserved someone who didn’t have a career ahead of them that would force them to hide their relationship. Jack told himself he was content with that and ignored the stabbing feeling of jealousy and hurt when Holster and Ransom gave Bitty yet another phone number belonging to a guy who was apparently perfect for him.</p><p> </p><p>Everything was fine and Jack was graduating soon and could then successfully move on from his feelings towards Bitty.</p><p> </p><p>And Jack truly believed that. He believed it until right about two weeks before graduation when Jack walked out to find Bitty sitting in the Haus’ backyard.</p><p> </p><p>It was a Monday and Jack had just returned from the library when he looked out the kitchen window and saw Bitty sitting with his back facing the Haus. It took about a minute of contemplating before Jack went out the backdoor and into the yard.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty was sitting with his legs crossed under him in the grass, phone held tightly in his hands in his lap. He was staring at nothing and barely seemed to notice Jack standing behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Jack wondered if he just wanted to be left alone. No one used the backyard since it was just a tiny square of grass and bushes, but now Bitty was here and maybe that was a sign.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he couldn’t help himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Bitty,” He said, the nickname now familiar on his tongue. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty didn’t say anything for a while. Then he patted the spot beside him and spoke. “You can sit if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack bit his bottom lip and sat down beside him.</p><p> </p><p>Though it was a hot day there was a lovely cool breeze. The kind of breeze that smelled of sunshine and made the trees whistle.</p><p> </p><p>“I just came out to the frogs,” He said, voice calm and quiet. Like he was content.</p><p> </p><p>Jack looked at him sharply. Bitty hadn’t wanted to come out to the frogs immediately and even though Shitty assured him that they would all be cool about it Bitty hadn’t wanted to yet. They all stayed out of the way, eager to let Bitty do it on his own terms this time. It had taken longer than most of them had thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” He said, trying hard to keep the surprise out of his voice. “That’s... great, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, it’s…” Bitty paused to chuckle as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. But the only thing Jack took notice of was that he looked happy. “Yeah, it just sort of happened, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“What made you decide on today?” Jack asked because he hadn’t known Bitty had been thinking about coming out to the frogs. Then again, if he had been Jack wasn’t sure if Bitty would’ve told him at all.</p><p> </p><p>The smile on Bitty’s face didn’t leave. “Aunt Judy tagged me in an article today for the first time in a month,” He chuckled. “It was another one of that gay guy finding Jesus and all that godawful stuff, you know,” Bitty turned his face towards the sky and closed his eyes. “And I just became so mad,” He paused to look at Jack and then broke out in a smile. “That old hag is <em>still</em> spending time on Facebook trying to <em>convert</em> me or something, and I just became so mad at her for trying to tell me that she thinks I’m <em>wrong</em>, so I ran straight into the living room where the frogs were all playing Mario Cart and just blurted it out.” By the time Bitty was done he was laughing so hard he was losing his balance and Jack couldn’t do anything but join in.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you believe it?” Bitty laughed. “The great aunt Judy, still obsessed with her gay nephew.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he wanted to. “Doesn’t she have jam to make or something?”</p><p> </p><p>It had the hoped effect and Bitty let out a snort. “You sure would think so.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty leaned back on his arms and closed his eyes towards the sun again. Jack looked at him.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” He started, “How did they take it?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty opened a single eye to look at him and grinned again. “Nursey was pissed I made him lose the rainbow track and I think Chowder might have broken a console when he jumped to hug me. Dex just asked me if I wanted to play. That boy, I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack couldn’t help but snort himself. That seemed about right.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good,” Jack said. “You deserve that kind of reaction, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty looked at him for a while until Jack was starting to wonder if he said something wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“I never thanked y’all,” He said just before Jack was sure he had made a mistake. “For what you did for me.”</p><p> </p><p>The words caught Jack off guard, and he said the first thing that came to mind. “You didn’t have to.” He felt Bitty’s eyes on him as he turned to pluck at the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“But you saved me,” Bitty continued and Jack looked up to meet his eyes. “You saved me, and I never thanked you for it. I was a mess and y’all picked up on it like sniffer dogs, I swear,” He paused to chuckle quietly to himself, Jack’s eyes never leaving his face. “I hope someday I can be there for you like you were there for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s hair was glowing in the sun like a halo and Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away because Bitty was literally glowing and Jack was leaving in two weeks, moving to Providence and starting his career and suddenly it all seemed awful if Bitty wasn’t there to witness it all. “Bits,” He started, feeling his cheeks heat. “You already are.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s face scrunched up in disbelief and he huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious,” Jack insisted, locking eyes with the most beautiful boy he ever laid eyes on, and somehow it all suddenly seemed too much. “I’m terrified about graduating and moving to Providence. I’m terrified if I’m gonna mess up at the Falcs,” Bitty was looking at him, giving him his full attention. It was too much. “But all of that just, kind of, go away. When we drink coffee. Or bake pie. Or when you talk about pop-music,” Jack paused and snorted at his words. He felt foolish. “You help me without even knowing it. I just have to look at you and everything becomes silent.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s mouth had dropped slightly open in an ‘o’ shape and his eyes were frozen on Jack’s face. The silence was murderous and Jack’s fear of sharing too much was becoming very real, but he couldn’t seem to regret it. He had two weeks left. Either he was going to take the right chance, or he was going to get some closure.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, he inched closer to Bitty until Jack was close enough to count the freckles on his nose. Bitty let out an audible sigh and tore his eyes away from Jack’s to look at his lips. Jack could hardly breathe himself and just before he closed the now almost non-existing gap between them he asked; “Is this okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty who had been looking slightly terrified ever since Jack stopped talking swallowed and nodded ever so slightly before letting out a tiny; “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>And where there had been a gap was now gone and Jack pressed his lips against Bitty’s and sighed so loud it was on the edge of embarrassing. It was soft and slow and close-mouthed and <em>amazing</em>. Jack lifted a hand to cup Bitty’s jaw and barely noticed the hand that had come up to clutch his t-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>They slipped apart with a soft click and Jack stared at Bitty’s closed eyes. Then he waited.</p><p> </p><p>Bitty exhaled loudly before opening his eyes to meet Jack’s. “I thought-“ He started but trailed off when Jack ran a thumb over his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m bi.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty stared at him. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack resisted the urge to grin. “Yeah, uhm. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty shook his head. “No, it’s fine, I’m just… wow.” He said and then broke into a smile that put the sun to shame.</p><p> </p><p>Jack could only mirror it. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>And then they were kissing again, faster this time but just as soft. Bitty’s hand had let go of his shirt and was instead running through his hair. Jack was still stroking his jawline, trying to memories every little detail that there was to memorize.</p><p> </p><p>When they broke apart to breathe their eyes met and they both let out a chuckle. Which evolved to full-blown laughter and soon Bitty was leaning against Jack’s chest to keep his balance and Jack was supporting their weight with a single hand while the other one was running up and down Bitty’s back.</p><p> </p><p>Then Bitty lifted his head, eyes still full of laughter. “I had I crush on you for the longest time, you know? I thought I was so obvious.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack froze a single second before kissing his hair. “I haven’t really been doing any better if I’m honest.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty just smiled at him. “We’re both really stupid then.”</p><p> </p><p>“We are.”</p><p> </p><p>“But not stupid anymore, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>And just to prove it Jack pulled Bitty in for another kiss. Jack was already melting in it when a thought occurred to him and he was quick to pull away.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you to go home with me for the summer.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you were planning on just staying here or maybe go home with Lardo, but,” He paused and chewed his lip. “I want you to come home with me. If you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitty’s shocked face broke into another grin and Jack was pulled into a hug. “This boy.” Was all Bitty whispered and Jack knew that everything from now on really was fine.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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